


The Home I Never Asked For

by Paper_Mind



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Characters Under Pressure, Child Abuse, Depression, Drama, Drug Abuse, Everything Is Open Yet, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Issues, M/M, Maria Is A Good Mother, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parties, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Satire Highschool References, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark POV, Trust Issues, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, many issues, other characters will be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paper_Mind/pseuds/Paper_Mind
Summary: Maria Stark and Tony Stark finally flee from their abuser. They find a temporary home with a close friend of the family. Tony thinks they might finally have a chance. While at first everything seems like a happy ever after, Tony learns that everyone has a beast inside them. Maybe even him. And not even the new boy he meets, seems to be able to change that.Tony never wanted this home.And he'd Exchange it, if he could.





	1. About Beasts, Broken Homes And Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> I am not from America, so there might be many spelling or gramtical issues, but maybe the story is better. Have fun reading it. ;)

_Pick it up, pick it all up._

_And start again._

_You've got a second chance,_

_You could go home._

_Escape it all._

_It's just irrelevant._

_It's just medicine._

  * Daughter / Medicine



Tony sits in the bathtub. The window is open and allows the sounds from the traffic underneath the apartment to crawl into the bathroom, where they echo from the wet walls and the slippery ground.

Tony’s body rests numb in the warm water. His shaking fingers hold a cigarette in between them. The index finger moves up and down on the object, pats it nervously and scratches the nail over the white surface.

He barely moves, to bring the deadly drug to his lips, but still, soft waves brush against his body and make it shiver with goosebumps. It feels as if every single touch could harm him in any possible way he knows. It is so wrong. This fear is so irrational, but it seems so real. So dangerous.

No question.

He is broken.

He’s always been.

And he’s always going to be.

Suddenly the clock of his phone went on and Tony’s head turned towards the corner his clothes laid. His phone buzzed inside of his pants pocket and played the song _“Zombies”_ by _“The Cranberries”_.

Immediately, he knew what time it was. Time for his daily exercise.

Different types of emotions whelmed up in him and swallowed him into confusing darkness. He felt stressed, felt angry, felt relieve, because now he would never ever get forced to exercise again, unless he wanted to.

The dark haired boy let the song roll on, while his brown eyes wandered down to the body that laid motionless in the slightly warm water. A body he was trapped in, as if it was his shell. Something he was chained to. No one had ever asked him if it was okay to put him into this prison. But no one had really cared. Ever.

Tony laid his head back, sighed and stared up to the ceiling. He had to admit. It was a bit dirty. Here and there some darker stains dominated spots on the clear space. But it was something he could get used to in time. Tony had never been too nit-picky with those things.

After a while, the teenager suddenly got a weird feeling. As if something was moving softly against him from under the water. He raised his head and stared down to his legs. He should have been shocked. But he wasn’t, though.

The water’s color changed into a dusty mix of ash, blood and dirt.

_Tony ran barefoot through the wood. Sticks and stone ripped the bottom of his feet open and stung painfully through the skin and the flesh. After all those fast and scared steps, it felt as if Tony would just be running on his open bone which could break apart in only some seconds, causing him to stumble and break his neck, before he could even get the chance to begin new._

_His body hit against branches, spider webs and plants that got in his way. And there were many of them._

_One of those limbs really got him good. It slammed right into his face, cut his cheek and made his head go dizzy. The blood flew to the side and the young man sliced his big toe against a root, growing out the ground, and stumbled with a painful grunt to the ground._

_The world spun and the taste of metal creeped up his tongue and his inner cheeks._

_Tony spat it out and cough. He held his head and tried to focus. He had to go on. He couldn’t stay here on the ground, he knew._

_“Tony! What are you doing?” called his mother from somewhere forward. Tony looked up and saw the blurry outlines of his mother. She was just as messed as he was himself._

_But she didn’t run on. She came back for him, pulled him up on his arm and let him lean on her, why she continued to make her way through the woods._

_She kept him close, gave him looks and then pushed him behind a rock, pulled him into her lap and kept his mouth shut while using the other hand to rub softly over the wound on his cheek._

_Maria shushed her son and flashed him a soft, but worried smile._

_“Keep quiet, sweetheart,” she whispered and cupped his cheek in a familiar manner._

_But the fear didn’t go there. It already was too deep in the teenager’s bone and guts, there was no fix-it anymore._

_The last thing Tony could see was how his mother got out her phone and dialed a number, she had called some time before. Before they had to run through the city and then through the woods._

_For a while, Tony lost his conscious. He was stuck in the darkness, hallucinating about his father, Howard Stark. Great engineer, great inventor, great mind. Bad father and even worse husband as Tony – and especially his mother – had found out over the last few years they had been forced to live together._

_But the next time, Tony woke up, Maria pulled him desperately up and drag him after her, while arguing angered and irritated._

_“This is bullshit, Maria. Why do you keep running away?” said Howard calm,_

_He had found them._

_“Step back,” Maria hissed desperately and almost tripped backwards, but held her son up._

_“I am not going to do anything to you. Just come,” Howard insisted, but Maria knew better than to trust him._

_If he wouldn’t hurt them now, he’d later and that was a risk Tony knew, his mother wasn’t willing to take. She loved her son. And her son loved his mother._

_“You are ridiculous. You’d rather jump than come back with me?”_

_Tony turned his head lightly to see what his father was talking about. And that was, when he saw it._

_Beneath him, down this sharp hill, laid a muddy wide lake._

_With fear and disbelief in his eyes, he turned to his mother and shook his head slowly. But she only gave him a tired expression and stared back at Howard._

_“I’d rather break all my bones than letting you near my son ever again.”_

_This fall wouldn’t probably kill them, but still hurt like a bitch._

_And it did._

_Maria jumped ripped Tony with her over the edge and down over the ground of the falling hill._

_They hit against stones, wood and over thorny plants, until mother and son dived under the muddy water._

Tony pants, feels the impact of the fall again and experiences pure panic when remembering this event.

The teenager tries to calm his breath and just focuses on the fact they have pulled each other out of the dirty water and managed to escape their abusing home.

Howard will come for them. Search for them. Eventually, he will be going to find them. But until then . . . they have a chance to find a temporary solution.

Tony realizes the music of his clock has stopped and his eyes wand away from the dirty bathwater and back to his dirty clothes.

Now, no Howard won’t ever force him into running until he collapses, weight lifting until his bones crack and box fights until he is all beaten up and unable to keep his inners in place.

And for a moment . . . it makes Tony smile and gives the boy the strength he needs to climb out of the bathtub and into the bathing rope he was given earlier. It is too big and not really his style, but the light blue fabric feels warm and protecting on his skin.

He looks into a full body mirror and opens the rope slightly. He is confronted with faded bruises, the new ones and some scratches from the fall. But nothing serious anymore.

Still.

It disgusts him.

To look at what has been done to him. What he was forced to do to himself by escaping through the woods, by letting himself got chased until he had no other way but to jump into a dirty and stinking mud bath.

The boy closes his eyes, lets the rope fall down, rubs his body dry with a towel and strays over to the bag his mother left in the bathroom for him.

She has been ready long before they ran away from home, has packed their stuff into bags and hid them at the end of the wood, where she has planned to go through all along, since usually, Howard wouldn’t expect them to go there. But he did. Because he came home earlier, only to stumble right across them leaving.

How much of this bad luck can one get?

Tony opens the bag, gets out jeans and a dark gray shirt with a record on it, which bobbins are made out of records, and lighter gray arms, so he won’t be cold.

He still remembers how they bought it in Austria, when his mother and him visited the harbors there. Howard was busy making calls and ignored his family. So they both went out with Jarvis and made themselves a nice time-out day from Howard.

Last, but not least, Tony puts on his sneakers and grabs the beige, black and red checkered button up shirt, Maria also packed, and since it was cold - the opened window doesn’t help – the dark haired boy decides to throw it on and use it as opened jacket.

Slowly, Tony approaches the silver bathroom doorknob and puts a shaking hand on it. He looks over his shoulder and realizes he dropped the cigarette into the bathtub earlier, without even noticing it. Fast, he fishes it out, tosses it out the window, sprays some deodorant, waves the whole smell out of the window, closes it, lets the water run through the pipes of the bathtub and without thinking any further, he rips the door open and steps out into the small corridor of the apartment.

From the kitchen - he guesses it was the kitchen – he hears a soft and quiet voice. His mother.

She sounds tired, exhausted, but also glad and somehow calming.

“Thank you, again, for taking us in. I know you are actually _Howard’s_ friend,” she says and Tony was sure she was smiling while saying this, like she always does when she feels embarrassed. Maybe because she had to ask for help. For a hideout.

“I am glad to help, Maria. Besides. Tony is my godson and I am his godfather. I like the kid and you and me also get along well, don’t we?” comes the answer from a slightly rough, but polite voice. The voice belongs to a man; Tony knew his whole life. The closest friend of his father and the man that already had to step in, when Howard had taken a beating on his son.

Maybe that’s why Maria trusted him to take them in. Maybe that’s why she called him twice and maybe that’s why he picked them up in a rush and offered them his home, even though they got it all dirty. But maybe they can – and will - clean it.

Tony hears his mother chuckle lightly, while she agrees to the earlier statement of the old friend of her husband.

“It will be good for Tony to finally be around a man without those . . . habits,” Maria muses and this time, the man agrees.

“But we won’t stay as longer as possible. Just until-,” Maria starts, but gets cut off.

“Nonsense, Maria. You stay as long, as you want. Don’t stress yourself. I know how hard this all is on you,” their savior replies with an eager and honest voice, while the sound appears, as if he would softly pat her hand.

When Tony stands in the frame of the door, he sees that that was the case.

Maria’s hands lay folded up on the table and the man on the other side of it, reaches over to caringly pat the woman’s pale hands.

The man is bald and has a white and gray beards. He wears a light blue button up shirt and some fancy pants. Glasses rest in the chest pocket of the shirt, as well as some pens.

“I- Thank you too. It means a lot,” Tony states quietly, not sure how to act, since he hasn’t seen this man – his godfather – in like years. The last time was, when Tony has only been around the age of 10, plus, minus – more minus, though -. Back then, his godfather stepped up in against Howard, when he hit his son harshly onto the back. Ever since then, Howard insisted to meet his friend anywhere but around his family.

Tony somehow even manages to smile now and also says: “You didn’t need to do that, but . . . you decided to help. Thank you, Obie.”

Obie.

The nickname Tony uses on his godfather, since as kid he always felt dumb saying such an unpopular name like Obadiah, who kept on laughing, saying it was a special name, but he never got to make the kid pronounce his name right, so eventually, he gave up on it and just accepted the name.

Now, Obadiah gets up with a smile, walks over to Tony, stops some feet away and looks him up and down, stunned about the sudden change. He commented it earlier, but now he has the full time to examine the change, puberty caused earlier and is still causing.

The boy flashes his mother a quick insecure look, but she only nods with a smile and takes her son’s hand from where she sits.

“You really grew a lot, didn’t you? Still as small as your parents, though,” Obadiah jokes and claps hands before settling them on his godson’s shoulders.

“You aren’t too tall yourself,” Tony counters and immediately feels bad, fearing his godfather might take this the wrong way.

But the man only smiles, changes a look with Maria and both adults start to laugh lightly.

“You’ve always been quiet the cocky boy, haven’t you?” Obadiah chuckles and pats the shoulders of the smaller boy, who shrugs back a bit, out of reflex, but accepts the firm and large hand on his limb.

“That’s what we love him for,” Maria says and strokes her son’s arm, noticing he is a bit stiff and worried, about something he didn’t quite figure out, yet.

The rest of the day passes by faster than Tony is used to roll through the days of getting tormented by _the man in the house_. Obie orders some pizza and the three eat them in no time, at least of them hungry like bears.

They even get to watch some TV and Maria sleeps in on the couch, her head falls onto her son’s shoulder and her breath goes slow and calming. Tony looks to his mother and smiles a bit. He wishes he could just sleep in like this, but the constant fear of Howard bursting in any minute, seems to keep him awake.

Obadiah, who sits beside the woman, looks over to Tony and flashes him a soft smile.

“Maybe we should give your mother some rest. She can sleep on the couch. But I don’t have a guest room…”

Tony looks up and locks eye contact with his godfather’s cold blue eyes. They seem soft all of a sudden, understanding, caring, as if Tony was his own son. Maybe this leads to the sudden wave of trust that rolls over the teenage boy.

“You know what? It’s your first night here. You take the bed, I’ll sleep in the armchair and then we get you and your mother real matrasses, at least,” Obadiah says and Tony looks around the apartment. He can’t see how two matrasses could possibly fit in here, but he doesn’t want to argue. But the next thing concerning him, is the fact that there isn’t any armchair in the living room, which is attached to the kitchen, and Tony wonders if Obie was going to sleep on the floor, or the bathtub and just didn’t want to worry his overwhelmed godson. But the young Stark doesn’t dare to ask. He doesn’t want to seem rude or that he wouldn’t appreciate the offer.

“Okay,” he says. To be honest, he just wants to be close to his mother now, but he also doesn’t want to be rude, so he gets up when Obie does and follows to the room he gets guided into.

Light gray – almost – white walls, a closet on the side, a window, a bed with dark gray sheets.

There is space for two people, Tony plays with the thought to maybe _do_ ask, if his mother could sleep with him, but maybe Obie just doesn’t want to wake her up, after everything they were put through today.

And suddenly, there in the corner to the wall with the window, Tony sees the brown-red old leather furniture. The armchair Obie’s obviously talking about.

Obadiah sees the look and rises his hands in defense.

“I can carry it outside, it’s not a big deal, really,” he offers, but Tony shakes his head, even though he isn’t comfortable with the thought of somebody watching him in his sleep. But it’s Obie. No big deal. Right.

Right?

The evening passes by fast.

He brushes teeth, he changes to a white shirt, his mother brought with them and gray jogging pants and then he slips through the door to the bedroom.

Obadiah already is seated in the armchair, a white thin sheet pulled over him, while he wears a white shirt and checkered pants in blue and gray.

His head lies back on the furniture’s back and his hands rest on the arms.

Tony sneaks quietly to the bed and slips under the sheets.

Should he ask, if Obie wants to share? It must be uncomfortable, but Tony would be even more comfortable himself with sharing with the man he didn’t get to see in years.

The young boy pulls the sheets over his head and mumbles a soft “G ’night”.

Obie returns the polite gesture.

Throughout the night, Tony feels a pair of eyes on him, glaring through the semidarkness, only the blue like light from the streets shines through the window and the curtains, while the traffic sounds get calmer, but never stop.

For some moments, some breathes and some furious eye blinking, Tony lightly lifts the sheets and sees the ceiling. And on that ceiling, thousand pairs of eyes. Eyes he saw earlier.

He tried to catch a glance of Obadiah and believes to see his twinkle open and so, Tony fast closes his eyes, soaks in the air, sharply, holds his breath, painfully, hears soft steps over the wooden floor, but they vibrate through the room as if the ones of a beast.

He shivers, doesn’t dare to open his eyes. A weight behind him settles onto the bed, makes it squeak and arch a bit.

And then . . . hot breath brushes against Tony’s neck, a heavy arm curls around his body, lays on him like a weight and a heartbeat was noticeable against his back.

Tony doesn’t dare to move, doesn’t dare to breathe and doesn’t dare to believe in this new start again.

Chances are, you get fucked up, whenever you believe in hope, that’s what he’s learned so far. This is what proven to be right.

Or is he just tired?

Is this real?

A nightmare?

All Tony knows is, that this new _“home”_ just got darker. No matter if this is reality, or just in his fucked up and fearing mind.

He will never forget the fact, that it feels so threatening.

But Obie would never do this.

Why would he either way?

But why . . . does this feel so real . . . and still . . . like a horrible nightmare he can’t wake up from.

Like he couldn’t escape, or run away this time.

He is chained again.

Tied into his own shell.

Disgusted.

By himself.


	2. Sometimes things are good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony settles in with school and has a crush on the typical Quarterback jock. Well, that's what Steve Rogers seems to be to the public, but Tony thinks he is special.

_They're gonna clean up your looks_   
_With all the lies in the books_   
_To make a citizen out of you_   
_Because they sleep with a gun_   
_And keep an eye on you, son_   
_So they can watch all the things you do_

  
_• Teenagers by My Chemical Romance_

Tony hates his new school. It sucks on so many levels. The teachers piss him off, the students piss him off and the food is simply the worst. Years of private school’s food have turned him into a snob and now being stuck with state school’s cafeteria food gets on the boys nerves.

  
But his mother doesn’t have to money to pay for private education and Obie doesn’t want to be too wasteful and Howard is not going to pay for Tony’s education anymore. It is a mystery how Obie got Howard to stay back and give up the search and also contacting the new school, reaching out files of Tony’s old school and explaining somehow why Tony isn’t with him anymore. And the boy figured all this out after one week of school and two weeks with Obadiah.

  
He had been sleeping in science class. His head laid on the table and when the bell rang, Tony tossed his note block, pen and unused chemistry book into his bag and put it over his shoulder. He begged to be able to leave without the teacher noticing him, but as soon as he walked to the door, Doctor Banner called him out and Tony was forced to swim against the stream of fleeing students, who try to push him aside, and meet Banner at the front.

  
He didn’t like his teachers. The worst were Miss Hill, the Spain teacher, the principle Fury and Doctor Banner. But not because Banner was annoying or a bad teacher, he was way too kind. He tried to help Tony get into the lessons easier, he held high stakes on him and told him he knew Tony was smart, but something was holding him back.

  
“What’s up, doctor?” Tony asked annoyed, Banner rose a brow and began to clean the blackboard and pack his stuff, after he waved his students goodbye. Then he started the whole lecture.   
“I’ve noticed you’ve been pretty tired. You were asleep,” Banner noted and Tony only shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t up for a talk like that, so he just shrug it off his mind.   
“I know it is hard to get into the lesson at this point, but you are only five weeks behind, you can still make it. I can only offer you help with learning, but I believe you are smart enough to do it yourself. There is just something holding you back.”

  
At this point, Banner had stopped cleaning the board and turned his full attention to the student in front of him. A true pain in the ass.   
“I am good,” Tony claimed and grabbed the carrier of his bag tightly. Banner didn’t seem satisfied with that. “I’ve seen your school record. You were a good student, but then you just stopped going to school. Look, we don’t know the reason for this transfer, but it seemed to be happening out of law, so this is probably something personal. If you need to talk to someone-“

  
“Nah, I am good. Got my therapists for that,” Tony lied, Banner didn’t believe him. But he let him go with the words: “I believe in you, Tony.”  
And Tony said bye with the words: “You’d be the first one then.”  
Tony had been thinking a lot up to this point, about the first night at Obie’s apartment. It had been weird and unreal and he was anxious when the next time would come, those arms locked around him and kept him in place, while hot breath stung his neck. It never happened ever since, so Tony just believed it had been a nightmare, or a fear of him, being trapped by people he trusted.   
The first week, they have been cleaning out the storeroom of the apartment and days after this, when Tony had been to school, Maria and Obadiah bought two beds for the room, so Maria and Tony could sleep there. Tony was relieved when he was told that. No need to sleep in Obie’s bed anymore.

Tony sits on the terrace of the school’s sport fields. The football team is running rounds and challenging themselves who is the fastest. The team exists out of pretty hot guys and the bi sexual Tony appreciates it. At his old school, he has been known for being picky, but active on certain parties with certain girls and certain boys, but to be fair, everyone has been knows for being active on certain parties with certain girls and certain boys. Here, he is just known to be the new guy, the fresh loudmouth, the snob, but still he has been accepted ever since.

  
He sits with crossed legs and waits for the guys he is going to meet up with. A dude named Clint Barton, he sells good drugs on the campus, never got caught till now, his bestie, the red haired power girl Natasha Romanoff and the mysterious freshmen Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. They met on Tony’s second day, when Barton and him were both using the boys restrooms to smoke. They talked, they got along, they became friends. He took in the Maximoffs as friends, because they have a similar taste in music and clothes and Natasha and Clint have been friends since kindergarten and been through some shit. Natasha hangs around with many people from school. She likes to spend time with Clint and the crew the most, but she also hangs around the footballers, such as Bucky Barnes, his nickname, Sam Wilson, a funny guy and Steve Rogers. Quarterback. Steve Rogers. The best looking guy Tony has ever seen. And he also seems like the kind of dude that is nice and a bit shy, with those blue eyes wandering after Tony whenever they cross paths at school, which is often, because Tony likes to pass by the footballers lockers to wink at Steve, or greet him smugly.

Sometimes he believes Steve thinks Tony is thinking Steve is pathetic or dumb, but Tony just doesn’t know how to express himself differently than through flirting. But he wish he could.

  
When Clint and the crew arrives, the coach of the team has already left, but gave Steve, his ultimate trust student, the key to lock everything up afterwards. Probably because the coach is the ex soldier and Steve’s dad Joseph Rogers.

  
Clint and Nat sit down to both sides of Tony. Nat crosses her legs too and turns to Tony, she smiles at him and takes a cigarette from Tony gratefully. Without the coach around, they can bum a smoke whenever they want. Clint has its own, the best stuff he believes and when Wanda and Pietro step up, Clint gives one of his to Pietro, Wanda isn’t up for it. Good for her.

  
“Politics with Coulson was a real pain,” Pietro grunts and lights the cigarette. He rolls his eyes and Clint messes the silver died hair of the boy to tease him. But in a friendly manner. Clint isn’t gay, sometimes Tony believes Clint is all over Nat, loving her more as a good friend, but then this Laura girl from another school picks him up and they leave hand in hand. Barton really seems to love her, whenever he is asked about her, he smiles this weird nervous grin and looks all longing.   
“Hey, it’s Friday, man, don’t be a drag,” Clint jokes and earns a punch against the shoulder by Pietro, who doesn’t like being called a drag. “It wasn’t that bad, Pietro is just sensitive,” Wanda replies and lets Nat put her head back onto her lap, while she continues to smoke.

  
While the four friends of Tony start to discuss if Politics are really that bad, Tony himself has only eyes for Rogers who outruns all the other team members and shouts out commands. The brown haired boy wonders what Steve thinks of him, if he is just annoying to him, or maybe something more, or maybe he hasn’t even noticed him and Tony is just imagining the confused looks of the blue puppy eyed jock, who is so much more than just a jock.

  
“Well, I believe the books and the teachers are just there to keep us small all the way,” Pietro suddenly says and rips Tony out of his thoughts with his commentary. The Stark kid lacks on context, but he turns his head to the gray haired guy, while Wanda rolls her eyes and answers: “You are so wrong. The teacher are there to help us to learn and the books are there as a physical storage out of paper to help us remember the stuff we should learn.”

  
Pietro scoffs, Natasha agrees, but she also believes that the school system isn’t making the future employers, but the fear of being stuck at school forever. Everyone nods fully in thoughts, Tony speaks out his mind: “You all seem to forget the real reason we have to go to school and through shit like politics.”  
They look confused to Tony, who smirks and everyone seems to know this is going to be a perfect sarcastic reason. “Smartasses.”  
Nobody says a thing and then they all start to laugh. A typical Tony.

  
When the time has come to leave, the team walks towards the locker rooms, the five friends get up and climb over the fence to leave the schools property as fast as possible.

  
“Stark, are you coming with us tonight? We will pick you up,” Clint asks and Tony rises a brow, confused. “Yeah, sure. I am coming with you to something I don’t know,” he jokes, but deep down he already knows, he won’t say no. “Jane’s having a party,” Clint explains. Tony just says yes. He doesn’t want to be a drag, like Barton would call him. The drug seller puts an arm around Tony’s shoulders and squeezes them, which causes the boy the shake his head amused and sigh. “I bet you are absolutely high again.”

  
Wanda and Pietro get picked up, Clint gets into the pickup of his brother, who waits for him in there and they drives off after Clint grabbed Tony s face to give his cheek a sloppy and wet kiss. Totally high. Tony shoves him into the car and pulls a face, while wiping his cheek.

“You are disgusting, dude,” he snots and closes the door for Clint. “Fuck off.”  
“Love you too. See you later,” Clint shouts while his brother starts the car.

  
Not it is only Natasha and Tony, who already sits himself on the sidewalk and lights his next cigarette.  
“Want one?” he offers to Nat, but she shakes her head and stand in front of her. She is a very pretty girl with big special eyes, snatched brows, thick lips and muscular nose. Her body seems perfect, not big, not too thin so she’d boney, simply what Tony would want to look like as a woman. He takes a drag on his cigarette and Nat asks: “Are you walking home again?”  
Tony nods. No one else is home today. Obie is working and his mother is out searching for a job. Usually, Natasha is at school with the her bicycle, an old one from her aunt, but today she is walking home herself. Tony doesn’t ask why, somehow he would feel rude doing so.

  
Steve and Peggy step out of the school, Steve has his arm around Peggy and she seems good with that, kisses his cheek and gets into her car. Steve talks to her through an open window, she seems happy, he seems distracted. Suddenly he looks Tony’s way, who just puts his flirty grin on. The tough jock simply nods over to Nat and Tony and tries to listen to the dark haired girl. Finally, Peggy drives off and Steve could turn his full attention on Tony. But he doesn’t. He grabs the steering wheel of his motor bike and rolls it over to the two friends, to the Stark boy it just feels like Steve wanders to Natasha.  
“Hey, Nat. Tony,” he greets. Of course he knows Tony’s name. Of course. Steve is so nice, he knows everyone. “What’s up, Rogers?” Tony asks. Steve flashes him a quick smile and Tony steps onto his cigarette. Natasha speaks up. “Are you and Peggy going to the party?” And Steve replies: “She is going with her friends. I guess I’ll be there with the team.”

  
Tony listens up. Peggy is going with friends. Is Steve more than a friend? Or does that mean Steve isn’t important to her?

Unnoticed, the brown haired boy starts to chew on his lip, searching for a way he and Steve could hook it up. Just a one time thing of course, Tony isn’t one for bounding, he has never been. On the other hand though, Steve seems nice and he wouldn’t want to hurt him. Maybe Steve can be the first real thing. But would it even work? Steve is Steve. And Tony is just Tony.

  
“Are you guys going?” Steve asks. “Yeah, of course,” Nat replies. Steve nods. “I’ll see you there.” He looks to Tony, who’s suddenly very confident again. Hell, he knows he is hot and Steve can be lucky he is even looked at. No, Tony isn’t being an asshole. He just knows his worth and knows Steve and him could hit it real good. They’d be a good thing, if just for the moment, or for some time longer.  
“I see you, Tony,” Steve says casually, which surprises Tony pretty much, as the guy swings on his bike and fucks off to the road. Tony stares with a jaw drop after the tall teen. He snaps out of it, when Natasha chuckles and teases: “Seems like your sexuality straddles your rationality again.”  
Tony rolls his eyes. “What do you mean by that? “

  
Natasha explains: “If you are looking for a one time thing, you are wrong with Steve.”  
“And why is that?”, Tony.  
“It is a secret he told me. I am not going to tell you, especially not when you just want to fool around a bit,” Natasha.  
Tony knows Nat doesn’t mean it in a bad way. She is just playing mother, or big sister again for Steve and for Tony. But maybe she is wrong about the boy’s intentions. Maybe he really is serious about Steve. After all it could be a new start after all Tony has been through. He deserves to be happy.  
He shrugs his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. He isn’t gay and has a girlfriend, I don’t have a chance either way.”  
Tony gets up and crosses his arms. “So no bad blood.”

  
Natasha seems surprised. “I know I only know you for like a week, but I didn’t think you’d be the relationship guy.”  
“I wasn’t. I am not. I don’t know. Maybe it is time to grow up, you know?” Tony murmurs and kicks a rock. Natasha smiles and puts an arm around her. They start to walk like this.  
“Maybe Steve doesn’t have a girlfriend and maybe Steve isn’t all that straight. You can never know,” Natasha purrs mysteriously and a glimpse of hope brushes his heart.

The evening starts all calm. Tony leaves a note for his mother and Obadiah, writing he is coming back in the night. He takes a spare key and jumps to Clint in the car. Wanda and Pietro are outside on the back of the truck and Natasha crawls in between Clint and Tony. They turn on some 80th music and slide left and right to the beat, singing along, freaking out over the full moon which is like not see able through the skyscrapers of the city. They drive to a calm road with similar looking houses. One of it is lightened up and music crawls through the neighborhood. There are already screaming guests, drinking couples fucking in the bushes and some jumping naked in the pool, alcohol in their hands, then in the pool.

  
“They already started,” Clint grunts. “You girls always take too long.”   
Nat slams her elbow into his side and shoves me out of the vehicle, so she can attempt the party instead of fighting with Clint. Wanda and Pietro are already heading for the door, getting greeted by some sophomores. They are basically the only freshmen to be on this party, but Clint has his drug connections, so the twins are more than welcomed.

Before Nat, Clint and Tony enter the scene, they sniff a line Clint put onto the display of his phone and the guy rubs the rest of the cocaine under the inside of his lips and uses a tissue to dry his finger afterwards. “Fancy,” Tony jokes and heads for the party. “Don’t search for me, I got to check on someone,” he shouts over to them, while he attempts the party.

The house is big, smells like sweat, vomit and sweet alcohol. There is a disk jockey and the drunken teens push each other around while dancing. Tony has expected this to just be teens drinking and playing drinking games, but there is actually dancing.

He sneaks a look over to Peggy in one corner with her girlfriends. They drink and point to some people in the crowd, then they talk about them. Peggy looks over to somewhere behind Tony. He follows her look and sees Steve, Bucky and Sam at the kitchen bar, mixing some cocktails for themselves. The moment Peggy looks away and loses track of Steve, because the crowd steels her vision, Tony knows now’s the perfect timing.

  
He traces over, twirls with his back against the counter and takes the drink Steve was mixing away from him. He leans confident against the working plate and sips on the drink.

  
“Hey-“  
He spits the drink out to the ground and coughs shocked. He holds the gross drink up and stares at Steve. “Gosh, what the fuck did you mix there?”

  
Bucky and Sam have to keep it together so they won’t start to laugh at either Tony’s reaction or the fact Steve mixes obviously shit.   
Steve seems a bit startled and he replies: “I tried a new flavor.”  
“What kind of flavor? Old women’s pussy? Man,” Tony grunts and Bucky just reaches forward to hand him his glass and explains this is just orange juice with Whiskey. Tony doesn’t ask how they got this hard drink, because he only cares about washing this disgusting taste off his tongue.

  
Sam smells trial like on Steve’s drink and curls his mode with a disgusted sound. For a moment Tony thinks he might have fucked it up now by insulting Steve’s taste, but the blond boy just laughs and says: “You are funny, Tony Stark. Oh man. I won’t be at a cocktail party ever in my life.”  
Tony smiles and goes along. “Not with those skills. No, seriously, what was that?"

“He though pineapple juice and Whiskey would taste awesome with a piece of lemon and lime and coke,” explains Steve’s best friend Bucky. Tony looks amused, but also disgusted to Steve and shakes his head slowly. “You are a true chef, aren’t you,” he jokes, but he’s being interrupted by a choking sound from Sam, who spits the drink back into its glass.

  
“Why did you try it?” Bucky asks confused and they start to fight about it, Bucky tries to end the discussion, but Sam keeps on bugging him, until they challenge each other about mixing.

  
“Let us go somewhere,” Steve says. Tony’s heart slips a beat. But suddenly there is a weird feeling in his chest. Not only joy, but also fear. So much could go wrong.

_Tony had his first time in middle school. He had been thirteen years old and already pretty sure about his sexual orientation. He knew many people who were gay, or bi, or even transgender. To that time it became a thing in society to express yourself without caring for others words. Even though the teen had been sure about his sexuality, he was curious, he hadn’t had sex before, he was still so young, his mother always told him to wait until he is old enough, but now he is almost fourteen and most of his friends weren’t virgins anymore. Time had gotten faster and faster in the last years and Tony didn’t want to be left behind._

_He attempted a high school party, his neighbor invited him to come along and Tony’s parents thought they’d just be going to get some food and spend the evening at a friend’s house. This neighbor guy was sixteen, almost seventeen, he was tall, dark haired and had a bit of a beard. He was a playboy and pretty funny if you asked Tony at that time._   
_The short story to this is Tony having fun at the party, getting drunk, his first time smoking with other people and grabbing boobs of someone older then fifteen._   
_But the fun didn’t end there. Technically now Tony wishes it did, but no._   
_His neighbor took him to a room and said that everyone has a secret and he had to just tell Tony his. Tony just accepted to listen and the boy told him he was gay and he knew Tony was bi and he wanted to touch him. Tony shrugged his shoulders and let it happen. He had wanted to test it, but at the end of the evening, he had been in pain and felt embarrassed, but it couldn’t be changed anymore. He had never looked his neighbor in the eyes again. And ever since he had hated him, even though he wanted to try it to and didn’t remember to say no. Do he didn’t say no right?_

Steve leads Tony upstairs, Tony follows, curious and with a weird sensation in his stomach. Sadly not a good one.

The Quarterback enters a room with a huge bed in it. Tony freezes. So Steve does want only one thing. Maybe Tony should go back to it too. Silently he sits down on the soft bed. The sheet is a bit itchy and the framework squeaks with every single movement, but it should be enough for sex.

  
“What are you doing?” Steve asks curiously, while fumbling to open the window. Tony rises his brow. “Uhm. I am waiting for what you are doing. My feet hurt.”

  
Steve looks him up and down and just nods, then he swings himself out the window and up the roof. “What are you doing now?” Tony steps to the window and suddenly Steve sticks his head down the roof, to be able to look to Tony, who startles for a second. “Need a hand?” Steve asks.  
Tony is excited, confused, eager to figure out Steve’s real deal.

  
He isn’t locked in himself for once. He puts his foot on the window frame and looks to the hand offered by Steve. He smirks and takes it. Cold and chilling, but also so refreshing and honest.

  
Tony holds on to the opened window and then Steve just pulls him up fast, even grabbing him by the back of shirt to get him up faster. Shortly after that, Tony sits beside Steve on the roof of the house none of them owns and Steve just states up to the sky.

  
“Why are we here?” Tony asks honestly confused. Steve turns his head towards the other boy and smiles lightly before saying: “I thought you were giving me hints. Your looks and so… I kind of liked them. You got the sass like a girl,” Steve explains and chuckles. “If you are straight, I wished I were a girl,” Tony murmurs, but Steve heard it and they now look awkwardly at one another.

“Maybe I am gay,” Steve.

“Maybe I am not,” Tony.

“Yes, you are,” Steve.

“I am smarter than you,” Tony.

“No doubt, but I am fitter,” Steve.

Tony glares challenging and amused at the same time over to Steve, who recreates the face. He rises his brow, Tony rises his brow, Steve narrows his eyes, Tony narrows his eyes. Steve purses his lips, Tony purses his lips and they curl their noses, pulling stupid faces, until their laughter interrupts them. Maybe someone saw them, but they are all at the pool or inside and Steve and Tony are on the other side of the roof, but you could never know.

“Okay, maybe you are not gay,” Steve.  
“I said maybe not,” Tony. “Maybe I could make an exception for you.

Steve smiles, he seems happy and this makes Tony happy. For a moment he loses himself in Steve’s eager eyes and he manages to forget all about his father, the first night at Obie’s, he still doesn’t know what was real and what wasn’t, and he could also forget the fact that homosexuality is “wrong” in some people eyes, which always drag him down. There is no father calling him a faggot, no neighbor to use Tony’s sexuality like that, no girl who questions him and no boy (or girl) who only used him and taught him to stay a playboy, lonely and hurt.

  
Here is just Steve.

  
Here is just Tony.

  
Here is what Tony doesn’t think he deserves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. I am back with another chapter. Unfortunately I haven't been able to write, because I dealed with serious health issues in the last half year, well, I had it before, but now something needed to be done about it, so I took this time only for me and my health. Thanks for the kudos and comments Btw :D. Maybe to some of you this chapter seems a bit cheesy at the end, but I met someone and they make me feel this way, so yes if they are reading this now, thanks for encouraging me to keep this story up. I hope you, who are reading this right now, have a wonderful day and that you are fine and if not that you get better soon. <3 I am still not from America, so triggering mistakes ahead.


	3. A bad start for a bad weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's weekend sucks and Saturday is the beginning of hell.

_All the lights go down as I crawl into the spaces_   
_Fight, flight, or the screams, life tearing at the seams_

_Wait, I don't ever want to be here_   
_Like punching in a dream, breathing life into my nightmare_

  * _Punching in a dream by The Naked And Famous_



  
Nothing has happened at the party. Tony and Steve were just chilling up there and decided to go out the next week after school.

Tony is pretty excited for that, but he’d never tell Steve, he has to keep his cool and his confidence, he fears the handsome Quarterback wouldn’t like him other ways. And this party has been the first one he hasn’t drunken anything but the sip from Steve’s satanic mix. Maybe this drink destroyed his thirst for alcohol for like forever.

Tony had met Nat the day afterwards and they’ve been talking all day, while Nat put light blue nail polish on Tony’s nails. He is not a fan of make up of any kind, but he was talking so much, he barely noticed when Natasha started and he likes her too much to tell her off. In the end it looked good, with the ring fingers black and pink. A bit too gay for the boy, but could you be too gay? He just accepted it and actually liked it pretty much. Maybe Natasha can go on with sometimes working on his chewed off nails, or the what’s left of them.

Ever since the party, Tony thought a lot about his first time with a man, with his neighbor. It is weird, because he never minded it, but now it seems like the reason he got so fucked up, sleeping around, not caring about other’s emotions. Maybe all of this caused him to be a bad person with an even uglier personality. This new knowledge tears him apart and he starts to think about this more and more. Steve could never like someone like him, right? He is just a piece of trash and Steve is so wonderful.

This really gets to him again. Those hands holding him, touching him, making him feel gross in his own body, even though he didn’t say no. He agreed and he stood in place for the neighbor boy. He doesn’t even remember his name, even though it has just been four years. Maybe he never knew this guy’s name. Maybe he imagined this all. Maybe he is sick. That’s definitely it.

The weekend is awful. Worse than Tony s thoughts. Not even the outlook of being able to meet Steve soon, fixes the mess.

Tony wakes up on Saturday. His mother is still asleep, she turns in her dream, Tony watches her calmly. The sun shines through the curtains and colors the white room in golden and warm colors. It gets unbearable hot under the sheets and even without them, the sun seems to burn his skin. With a grunt, he lifts his body off the bed. He only wears his dark underwear and while he sneaks to the door, he tries to be as quiet as possible.

His mother has her sheet up her chin, obviously sweating, but failing to fight back against the sheet in her dream. Seeing her like this makes Tony smile sadly. He misses the days his child self cuddled in between his mother and Howard. They both would reach out over him and hold each other in their arms, me in between, loved and cared for by both his parents. But times changed and suddenly a young Tony only had a mother. There was no father anymore, just a loveless shell of him, but to this day, Tony tries to hold on to the thought that it isn’t Howard’s fault, even when he told him and everyone often enough it was. But he was lying. All along. Deep down he had just missed his father’s closeness and he had been mad and hurt by the words Howard spilled. Because he started to believe them. And they weren’t nice at all.

Tony sneaked up to his ma and pulled the sheets softly back. There is still an old bruise visible on her shoulder. It has been months, but some bruises always remain under the skin, even worse when the same spot is being hurt over and over again. Tony carefully brushes some hair out of his mother’s slightly opened mouth. She lays on her side and so the hairs got that way. He brushes the blond hair behind her ear, her hairline is already gray, even though she is a young mother. Her son softly kisses her shoulder, not in a perverted way, but in a caring way. He hopes to get rid of the nightmares for her like this. It sounds stupid, but he would anything to help the person who battled him through all of this horror.

“Thanks mom,” Tony just feels like saying it all of a sudden. He grabs a white big shirt and throws it over his bare torso. He opens the door, it squeaks a bit, but Maria sleeps on. Tony goes to the kitchen, prepares coffee and heats up the food from the day before he hasn’t eaten, since he went through the party. Just some baked beans, a cold pancake with Irish cheese in it and some bacon strips.

Tony heats it up and sits down on the table with his phone. He doesn’t want to sit on the couch and eat in front of the TV, so he just turns it on from the table and looks sideways to the morning shows. He turns his phone on and opens the group chat of Clint, Nat, the Maximoff twins and himself.

Clint: I should make a party.

Nat: Your living isn’t big enough.

Clint: Don’t be so negative. 

Nat: I am being honest, you live in the tiniest apartment I have ever seen.

Clint: D-R-A-G. :o

Pietro: She has a point, dude. ;)

Clint: Only because you finally got a drag partner.

Wanda: Pietro. Do the dishes.

Clint: Triple drag today.

Pietro: Where’s Stark?

Nat: He had a nice evening, leave him alone.

Tony: 

Clint: I hate you. 

Tony: Drag.

Clint: Touché.

There is another message, not from the group text. Tony grabs his rolled up pancake, dips it in the beans and takes a bite from it, while scrolling through his phone to read the message. He almost chokes on his bite and looks closely to the message.

Steve: Hey. 

Steve: Got your number from Nat.

Steve: Hope that is okay.

Steve: What are you up to today? You all good?

Tony’s mouth went a dry. He slurps on his coffee mug and grins brighter than in years. His ears turn all red and heat settles down in his head and face. He feels like doing a cartwheel right here right now. But instead, he opens the keyboard on his phone and begins to type with shaking thumbs. You can say what you want about Mr. Smartass Tony Stark, but he types like a pro, faster than everyone else and mostly correct. But this time, his fingers slow down. He doesn’t know what exactly to write, he doesn’t want to make a fool out of himself. He simply starts to type and type, but deletes it every time. Steve switches between offline and online, he types, but is online and offline again. Tony is confused and he is sure Steve is confused too. He types again, but a new message comes in and he taps on the notification to read the whole message. From Obie.

Obie: Are you in the kitchen, Tony?

Tony: Yeah? Did I wake you?

Obie: Kind of.

Tony: Afraid to come over here? 

Obie: Nah, my back just hurts.

Tony: Should I bring you coffee? Or tea?

Obie: Would be nice.

Tony: Okay. Coffee? Or tea?

Obie: I love both. 

Tony: I made coffee, accept it. ;)

Obie: 1 do. ;)

Tony smiles a bit to himself. He likes to help Obie out, he begins to feel as if he could finally give something back and wash his sins from the past.

The boy gets up, fills the coffee into Obie’s favorite mug, white with a single word in a script like font. It says “Definitely Alcohol”. Well technically, those are two words, but they have one meaning.

Before he can go on with the mug, his phone rings shortly. Steve messaged again. Tony grabs the phone with one sweaty hand, because he fears Steve is pissed now. But luckily he is just curious, or worried.

Steve: Hey.

Steve: Anyone there?

Steve: Are you okay? 

Tony cracks a smile. Steve seems really worried, that is not amusing at all, but it shows Tony the “jock” might actually mean it with the smartass.

Tony: Yes, I am fine. 

Tony: I am bringing the coffee to the guy we stay with.

Steve: Cool.

Steve: Why exactly?

Tony: His back hurts.

Steve: Huh. Poor guy. I’m sorry.

Tony: Gentleman ;)

Steve: Trying to impress you. ;)

Tony: Aha…

Steve: Is it working?

Tony: Nothing impresses me.

Steve: Oh… 

Tony: Usually.

Tony: But I can make an exception for you.

Tony: 

Tony can feel the grin on Steve’s face, as the guy sends a laughing, but also happily smiling emoji. It warms Tony’s heart. Still, he has to put the phone away now and finish the coffee. He puts just a bit milk in, Obie likes it black, but not completely without milk. He isn’t a guy for sugar, but he takes a little heap of cool whip.

When Tony is done, he knocks on Obie’s door, making sure the man didn’t sleep in and doesn’t want to be annoyed now. Obie calls him in and manages to sit up with a grunt. He holds his back, bends it backwards and the spine cracks. Tony pulls a face in disbelieve and bites his lips to forget the grossing out sound.

“Gosh, your back is fucked up, man,” Tony snots and shivers with chills all over his body. Obie just smirks tiredly and grunts: “You’ll get there, kid. Just you wait.”

“Too bad I won’t have a Tony to serve me coffee,” the boy jokes and hands Obadiah the mug. He smiles and drinks after blowing softly against its surface. “You don’t know. Maybe you’ll have someone to bring you coffee.”

Tony smirks. “But I want someone cool like me. And something like me isn’t happening again.”

Obadiah grins back and drinks fast. Tony wants to get up and answer his phone again but Obie says his name, so Tony stops and sits back down on the edge of the bed beside Obie again. Being in this bed again makes him feel awkward and once again he is thinking about that party night with the guy he forgot the name of. Obadiah seems to talk, but Tony’s ears are shut with a soft, but sticky fabric.

He imagines to feel those locking arms around him again, holding him close and he is unable to get out of it. There is nothing left to his imaginations anymore the past washes over him again, lips sucking on his skin, hands bruising his body and bitter sweet words, tears and clenching onto his younger self. “I am sorry. I am sorry. Can you forgive me? I am sorry. I am so sorry.”

Tony snaps out of it, when he feels Obadiah’s hand on his thigh. The dude talks on, Tony feels perplex. He is caught up in himself and he realizes the drugs from yesterday are still affecting him. Just because he didn’t drink, doesn’t mean he didn’t take drugs, especially when offered by Clint. Before they left the party, they took in a bit weed, but instead of relaxing him like usual, Tony has a headache, maybe it is more the cocaine, and the drug suddenly works against him and against what it should actually do. Keep his anxiety inside, now it tickles it out. The world switches into a cold clue, Tony freezes, ice forms around him, burning him like fire and those piercing blue eyes of Obie look right through him, while his own lips get paralyzed and frozen up, all pale and blue and unable to part, or the eyes will tear his skin apart. His heart pounces, his mind races and his soul tries to flee from this body, from this shells and the memories it holds.

“I hope this is okay and you aren’t mad at me now.”

Tony looks up as he hears those words. He must look confused, chased, hurt like a helpless deer. He shakes his head in confusion. His wide eyes look Obie up and down and the older man asks with worry in his rusty voice: “Are you okay, Tony?”

Tony nods perplex. He agrees and presses his lips onto each other. He asks what Obadiah meant, what he said. The man sighs and repeats himself. “I wondered if you are mad at me, because I threw your cigarettes away. There was also a joint, this can’t be good for you.”

Tony stares at him for a second. He says quietly: “I don’t understand, Obie.”

Obadiah pats Tony’s thigh. Tony stares at the big hand touching his bare leg. He isn’t okay with that, but he is too tired to start a fight about it. He still doesn’t understand the cigarette thing Obie is talking about.

Obie looks Tony now deep in the eyes and explains: “You left your clothes in the bathroom last night, about three in the morning. My back hurt so I went to grab my painkillers. I wanted to wash them for you, because they smelled smoke and then I found the stuff in your pockets. This stuff… is no good for you.”

Tony’s mind is still running wild, all crazy, steaming.

“You looked through my clothes?” Tony asks baffled. He has lost all his words but those he just said. Somehow this conversation doesn’t make any sense. There is no use in discussing this, because Tony doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything. His own mind is senseless, his head lost all the connections to the nerve system in his body.

Obie pats his thigh again, Tony gets mad about this. Yet again a hand which claims him, a hand which holds him down and a hand he trusted.

“Tony, I just told you, I wanted to wash them for you and cleared the pockets. I threw that shit away, anyone else would have informed the police about this joint, but not me. I know you can do better,” Obie says calmly, his hand still doesn’t move away.

“Okay,” Tony simply says. He doesn’t want to talk anymore, he feels awkward around Obadiah all of a sudden, he wants to get away from him, but the man grabs his shoulder and squeezes it friendly and sighs. “Oh, Tony. Don’t become your father. When he was young-,” Obie wants to explain, but Tony shakes his head and interrupts the old friend of the family. “I am not my father.”

Obadiah nods and pulls Tony in to hug him. But the boys arms just fall inanimate to his sides, while the man pats his back. When Tony notices the hug is too long and to tight, he moves his arms around the guy and also pats his back, to signalize him the hug is too tight. Obie pulls back, still holding Tony’s shoulders.

Obadiah says mysteriously: “No, you are not. You are smarter than him.”

His hand fins it way to Tony’s waist. Tony freezes. “You are more beautiful,” Obie adds and that’s the moment Tony decides it is enough. He gets up and forces a smile onto his face.

“I should wake mom now, she wanted to go for a walk in the park with me.”

Tony fast closes the door behind him and takes a look at his phone again. Clint texted him privately, just some seconds ago.

Clint: Pietro and me wanted to do a guy’s night.

Clint: You in?

Clint: Got new stuff. 

Tony: Thank God. Mine were taken away.

Clint: Drag.

Tony: True drag.

Clint: I pick you up, later.

Tony: Thanks.

Clint: 

Tony puts his phone down and wakes his mom. After she ate and got ready, they both leave the apartment. Obie stayed at home, luckily, to write his reports for work.

Tony and Maria go to the nearest park, it has a little lake with fish in it and a squirrel runs their way. They walk the way there and look around the tree a bit. It has been a long time ago, they were able to spend a mother-son day.

A single red leaf is floating through the air and settles down on Maria’s pale hand. She smiles and shows it to Tony.

“Autumn is coming,” she says quietly, Tony chuckles. “The new Game of Thrones.”

Maria rolls her eyes with an amused smile. “You teens and your series. I don’t get ‘binge’ watching this stuff. It can’t be healthy.”

“You’re a drag,” Tony.

“Where did that come from?” Maria.

“I get around,” Tony.

After a while, they sit down on a green old bench near the water and Maria gets out some dry bread to feed the ducks, which are happily swimming over to them both, pecking their food.

“Mom?” Tony asks unsure. He really wants to talk to his mom, but there is always this fear of upsetting her someway, making her sad, or getting her to think about her destructive love. Maria looks up and smiles and hands her son a bit bread. Tony tries to smile as best as possible and starts to help his mother feed the cute animals.

“I met a guy,” Tony goes straight for it. Maria turns to him, with an honest smile and shine in her eyes. She seems to be very happy about her sons news. Tony believed she’d maybe be sad or so or reminded of Howard. “That is great,” she shouts out happily and almost drops the whole bread into the lake. “What is his name?” she asks excited.

Tony smiles a bit, his face feels hot all of a sudden and he chews on his lip to hide his nervousness, thinking and talking about his newest crush. He knows Maria knows about his lifestyle at his own school and she is probably happy Tony says something like this, as if he truly has a chance with someone.

“His name is Steve and he is Quarterback at the schools team. He is nice and handsome and just- uh- he is perfect,” Tony whispers and messes his hair, as he doesn’t know how to describe Steve better. A person like Steve doesn’t seem to show much to the public, just like Tony himself so he notices pretty quickly when people behave that way and Steve totally does. But when they were alone, on this roof yesterday, Steve showed so much more without even realizing, which causes Tony to fear he did too. And that is never his plan.

“He is tall and funny and I guess pretty sensitive,” he continues. Maria chuckles. “Are you sure the last point isn’t just perfectly you?”

“Hey. No fair, ma,” Tony pretends to be surprised and shocked by his mother’s words, but they both know she is right. “So do you think this could be something serious for once?” Maria wants to know. Tony nods slowly. Yes, he does believe so. His mother puts an arm around him and kisses his head softly. Tony leans onto her shoulder, while they feed the ducks, now in silence.

  
Later that day, Clint and Pietro pick him up in Clint’s brothers pickup truck. They turn music on again and just drives through the streets while I smoke, luckily Pietro brought a whole package of cigarettes for just Tony, and Clint also got some good shit, like grass, LSD and cocaine. The best shit, through and through. They wander through some clubs, drink and sniff cocaine through their noses, until Pietro’s bleed and they stop by a nearby forest, in which the Maximoff twins played a lot in their childhood days when they stayed with their grandparents, before they fully moved to them. There is a little unused tree house, which has been the twins escape from bullying and racism in the past. They climb up there, it starts to rain and it gets cold, the blanket smell like old forest and moss. The three guys continue to drink and they start to smoke the joint, Clint brought along. At this point of the night, Tony worries a bit if a cocktail out of alcohol, cocaine and weed. But his mind is already way too fucked up to take care of the worry-thinking.

It gets later and later, it’s now eleven pm and Clint already lays on the floorboards, while Pietro grabs all blankets and rolls over the ground with them, as far as the tree house allows him to. Meanwhile Tony starts to draw on the wood with a black marker. The rain falls down onto the roof and it calms the boy’s nerves. He writes popular quotes all over the place, draws mustaches and puts the words “Tony Stark rules” many times onto the walls.

After a while they reach their limit of highness. And because of their high, their words just roll off their tongues so easily. Lightness takes over the atmosphere and the conversations turn into a whole other direction.

“I think Laura is too good for me,” Clint.   
“Why?” Pietro.   
“I am just a bad guy from around and she is this nice smart caring girl,” Clint.   
“Maybe that is exactly what makes your relationship perfect,” Tony.

Clint nods and squeezes Tony’s shoulder. Then he put his head on Tony’s shoulder and passes out there. Tony isn’t sure if Clint’s just sleeping or went unconscious, but his drunken self isn’t capable of that question.

Pietro just chuckles as he sees it and Tony goes along, but it doesn’t take them long to join Clint at the ground.

Of only the night in a cold and wet tree house would be the worst of Tony’s weekend, but the boy doesn’t know what’s awaiting him on Sunday.

  
That is when Tony comes home in the morning. Of course he told his mother a day before he’d spend the night with his friends, but coming home, drunken and high at four in the morning, while everything is still dark in the apartment.

He stumbles through the rooms and has to stop at a doorframe to hold himself up. “Ops.”

He stabilizes himself and accidentally hits his head against the wooden frame. Tony grabs onto the edge to keep himself from falling and listens up when there is a sound of an opening door. He looks up, confused and tired. Obadiah steps up in a white night shirt and blue striped shorts. He rubs his eyes, worn out and surprised by the boy’s appearance.

“Tony, what are you doing?” Obadiah asks. But Tony can’t answer. He bends over and vomits, hitting his own clothes and the expensive floor. He feels as if he is puking sharp razor blades out of his throat. The gross taste and smell leads Tony to vomit on until he is almost passing out, his gagging sounds ringing in his head.

He feels a hand on his back, he is being led somewhere, everything is spinning, his vision gets blurry and blue, sweat forms on his pale head and the puke on the edge of his mouth dries up.

Tony’s body is getting leaned over the toilet, where he gives up on the last bit of inners he owned in his stomach. The act takes a lot of power off the teenage boy and his body begins to shake heavily, while his glassy eyes get wetter with every breath he takes. From the edge of his eye, he sees how the door opens, Obadiah, kneeling beside him looks up, he says something, an anxious squeak and a breaking woman’s voice reaches Tony’s ears. His mother. That’s bad. Really bad. She is seeing him like this. Worthless.

This is like a bad dream and he can’t escape it. In Tony’s head every light explodes and vanishes into the big Great nothing. He crawls forward for his punishment, but there is only whiteness embracing him, turning him all crazy.

He feels Obadiah gets up and walks to the door. The boy hears their voices, they argue, Maria seems to leave, crying, Obie grabs Tony under his arms and pulls him to his feet. Tony doesn’t get it. How did it go this far? It has only been a guy’s night out. No one was supposed to get hurt. And now he can’t even realize how he got home. Home, this isn’t his home. He hasn’t asked for it to become this way.

Rough hands tear at his messy clothes. They get rid of his jacket and his shirt, one hand holds his body up, while the other pulls Tony’s pants down, along with the trousers. The boy’s body begins to shake in fear. He wants to talk, but as soon as he opens his mouth he gags, so he stops himself from talking. Instead he focuses on the sound of rushing water. It takes some minutes, until the rough hands shove against his shoulders and push Tony’s bare body into the bathing tub of ice old water. This forces the boy’s shaking to get even worse, but Tony still refuses to speak, he is sick of choking his organs out his mouth.

He gasps, the coldness grabs him and almost drags him under. Tony’s fingers curl around the hard edges of the tub, suddenly Obie’s hands reach out to once again hold on to the teen’s shoulders. But this time they put heavy pressure on them and force the whole body of the weakened boy under water. For a moment, Tony is in shock. He rips his eyes open, cold water stings them. His fingers jerk, his body pumps adrenalin through his veins and he begins to struggle. It seems like a fight of life and death, but he’s only caught up in the cold water for like some seconds, until Obie pulls him up again and Tony is able to take a deep breath. The world seems clearer now, washed clean.

Tony coughs for a while and with every drop of water that drips down his wet hair and his lashes, he solvers up more and more. After all, the drowning must have had one good thing to it, but Tony would have preferred it different.

“What should I do with you? I thought you’d get better, once you are away from your father. Guess I was wrong. What a shame, there is so much more to you.”

Obadiah’s voice seems miles away. Tony can’t think clear anymore. He doesn’t recognizes this smug undertone in the old friends voice. Obie settles down on a bathroom chair. He puts his hands folded onto his lap and leans forward, his elbows on his thighs. He seems so strangely relaxed, it creeps Tony out big time.

Tony rolls his head back to get more air, his arms hang loosely to both sides of the tub, he feels so heavy and light at the same time and he begins to ask himself how this is even possible.

Suddenly he hears the sound of a zipper. His head drops to the side and he looks to Obadiah. Shock begins to chew its way through every layer of his body. Skin, flesh, muscles and nerves and bones beneath all of that fleshy and boney mess. Tony’s heart pounces once again against his thorax and his mind drifts off to void again.

Obie pulls his belt away and lets it drop beside him on the ceramic ground. The loud sound of the buckle shatters all Tony’s thoughts. The man sitting away from him reaches for the door beside him. He locks it and then moves his one hand into his pants, seemingly groping himself. Tony is frozen, he doesn’t say a word, he stares blankly instead, blinks from time to time and wonders if this is reality.

Obadiah’s hand moves slow at first, firmly grabbing the base of his growing erection, Tony can see the pants tightening, maybe it is just the man’s hand performing pressure, but who does really care about this? The main point is Obie jerking off, with Tony naked in front of him, vulnerable and locked in this room with this guy fucking his own hand.

The movements become faster and harder, Tony continues to stare. He can’t take his eyes off, he wants to watch every step this guy does. If he comes near him with this throbbing cock in his hand, Tony is going to freak and lash out at the old friend. Obie now takes his penis out of his pants as if he would like to show it proudly to the teen. But it really isn’t anything special. Just a medium sized man member, a usually pink dick no one is going to look at twice. But the fear of maybe having to, strikes Tony’s mind and once again he is paralyzed. He is often paralyzed in the last time. And he often seems to be in a fucking nightmare with guys (sometimes even girls) being disgusting perverts, even including himself.

“Look at that, Tony. Look at what you’ve done to me there. Keep this in mind, you owe me,” Obadiah whispers disturbingly and needy. Tony just feels sick at this point, confronting with yet another nightmare he can not punch himself out of. It’s like they say in the songs.

The drugs and the alcohol in his body still affects him a bit. And maybe Obie is right. Tony has taken it to this point of being naked in a bathtub. He could have said no. He can still say no. But he doesn’t. Because Obie has to be right. He took him in. Cared for him. Did everything. And Tony is just a shameless prick who doesn’t deserve any of this love.

Maybe Tony does owe Obie.

Maybe it is his fault Obie has to jerk off, because Tony is a little fucking Lolita, as Vladimir Nabokov called the nymph character of a young girl attracting the protagonist with her childish female charm. Well, technically, he is a pedophile. So it’s his beer, not the girls, don’t get Tony wrong there. And also technically, Tony isn’t a little girl. He is an almost grown up teen and he is trapped in a room with his guardian jerking off to his figure in the tub. And while Tony thinks about the complexity of “Lolita”, Obie seems to be close to the finish line. And when Tony thinks to himself: “It’s not her fault he is a pedophile, right? And it is not her fault he manipulated into a hidden sexual moment on a couch when her mother wasn’t around and she didn’t even seem to notice the protagonist managed to hide an orgasm,” Obie moans out and covers his mouth, while white ejaculate explodes exposing from the tip of his swelling cock. Once Obadiah has relieved himself, he simply walks over to Tony and pats the boys head with his dirtied hand. Tony can swear the semen gets stuck in his hair and he tries not to gag so hard, all the thoughts get washed out in one. No book by a Russian author anymore. No nightmare he can not punch out. And no escape from this place.

Obadiah runs his gross hand over Tony’s whole face and lips, the boy just looks straight forward now, void, without any reaction, and once Obie has enough, he cleans and he leaves and probably tells Maria everything is fine and she’ll never know, cause Tony can never prove and Tony doesn’t want to have a proof. He just wants to forget and move on. Forget this fear and this embarrassment.

After all, this could all be something else than reality. Anything else, everything else. Just please. Don’t be reality.

Suddenly Tony feels a relieve of pressure and fear and the water becomes warm and changes the color around his waist. He has wet himself. He is now low. Pretty low.

And he lays his head back, ashamed and hated by himself and Obadiah is right at the end of the day. Tony doesn’t know with what exactly. But he is wrong. So Obie must be right.

And so he just lets his head laid back and stares up the ceiling and the rotating fan on the lamp, which he hasn’t noticed yet, and he wonders if he’ll ever drink and get high again.

He already made plans of how much grass he will buy from Clint next week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post again, because I haven't in a long time and I bet there will be many mistakes again, but I hope you can ignore them, because you like the story. Well, at least I hope so. And I hope you, who are reading this, you are having a wonderful and fantastic time, if not, I hope you get better soon. :D

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is my first fic, or at least the first I post. I don't know if I am good with it, or not, but I am going to try to keep it as interesting as I can, even though this first chapter doesn't feel like it, yet. I hope I can post regulary, since I am having fun at writing and phantasizing. How is everyone that is reading? And have a nice day, or night, I really hope you enjoy this chapter, and the story and don't mind the mistakes too much. Critizism is welcomed, just like every comment. <3
> 
> BTW: I don't know if this is too short, or too long, just tell me your opinion. :)


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